Text João Barbosa | Translation Bruno Ferreira

This February brutally sprouted a portrait of the North-american actress that steals all of her intense and feline sensuality. My God! Who’s the butcher that thought of himself as plastic surgeon?

The abominable figure was result of special effects, mix of lights, little to no shadow and deplorable’s taste makeup. Uma Thurman, born in the beautiful year of 1970 (!), 1,81m, will be my crutch on this approach of the wine subject.

I’ve heard from a Spanish oenologist that in his profession there are fruiters and carpenters. Meaning, those who favor fruit and those who prefer working with wood. There’s probably more families, but these two categories suffice for me.

I’ve been noticing that it exists – among oenophiles, critics and gastronomy writers – a great fruit valorization. Partially speaking, it sounds good to me, since wine isn’t made if not from fruit.

There are several procedures which can blur, make-up, mask or hide a truth. Ruining is always easier than fixing, knowing that mends won’t ever be exact. In wineries we can find disasters – butchering wine just like Uma Thurman’s makeup – and lifebuoys; if you have a bad wine and have to sell it, the winemaker will probably have to make use of foundation and mascara to create a special effect. It might deceive beginners and fools, but not the wise and trained people.

It’s easy to like fruit – which is neither good nor bad – and sometimes it just isn’t enough. Then the gimmicks come into play to highlight notes of easy taste’s industrial products. I’m not saying it’s either good or bad, it depends on how it shows and where it shows – if it’s for childlike enjoyment, in swimsuit or less than that, like jacuzzi, it’s fine. If it’s meant for waltzing, then jeans are not the clothes you want.

Defending the fruit sounds good to me, partially, because summarizing wine to fruit is a bummer. Boredom arises abundantly from the producer’s willingness and necessity to make business. Nothing against.

What’s hard for me is, when that naturalness of fruit, or flowers, transforms into a caricature. The demand becomes insane (!) repeatedly. I have noticed that several Dão’s producers are focusing on touriga nacional and highlighting the violet aromas.

A specific case: I have been drinking Dão’s wine caricatures. Caricatures of touriga nacional. The wines have nothing wrong with them, they’re well-made and honest. But the eagerness of achieving a holy grail and the highlighting of nature’s provided characteristics give place to some pretty ugly stuff.

It’s like Uma Thurman’s makeup artist: the technician didn’t spoil anything up. It’s all there and he didn’t added up anything that couldn’t be removed. Nevertheless, the actress was horrible.

Honestly, fruit tires me. Hearing compliments to fruit is not as thrilling to me as the outcome of an American football game – which, should in fact, be called American handball.

Fruit means fruit and many times is as boring as an oak beam inside a glass. I’m not a weevil, I don’t feed off of wood. However, I need wood on reds. I only understand the «unoaked» as a «philosophical» or «ethical» principle – exaggerating – since pleasure is weak.

In spite of everything, white and red are not the same thing. As a friend summed up:

If it’s meant to taste and smell like passion fruit, I prefer passion fruit juice.

Were I a wine producer, I would hire a carpenter oenologist… but I wouldn’t give him much money so he couldn’t buy that many barrels.